


The Tales of Garreg Mach

by TheMerryPanda



Series: Tales of Garreg Mach [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Gen, Inspired by Avatar: The Last Airbender, Post-Time Skip, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:41:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24835540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMerryPanda/pseuds/TheMerryPanda
Summary: A series of events that takes place during the Lone and Great Tree Moons, after Valley of Torment and before the War at Gronder.Heavily inspired by the A:TLA episode The Tales of Ba Sing Se (Book 2 Episode 14).Chapter 1: The Tale of Ingrid and MercedesChapter 2: The Tale of RodrigueChapter 3: The Tale of AsheChapter 4: The Tale of SylvainChapter 5: The Tale of FelixChapter 6: The Tale of Byleth
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic & Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert & Dedue Molinaro, Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Sylvain Jose Gautier, Ingrid Brandl Galatea & Mercedes von Martritz
Series: Tales of Garreg Mach [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1880578
Comments: 5
Kudos: 19





	1. The Tale of Ingrid and Mercedes

Mercedes enjoyed waking up on Sunday mornings. To bring structure and familiarity in this time of war, Professor Byleth had organized their weekly schedule to resemble that schedule of their time at the academy five years ago. Mondays thru Fridays were devoted to training, Saturdays for war councils, and Sundays for rest and preparing for the next week, all subject to change and accommodate for missions and battles.

She put on a plain and comfortable tan dress and stepped outside of her dormitory. The air was brisk, but there were signs of spring coming very soon. The thought made her smile, but only briefly. On days like this, she and Annette used to enjoy taking a rest day to pamper themselves by taking a trip to a sauna and experimenting with makeup and new hairstyles, then going out into town for dinner and tea. Since the shopping incident last week when a rogue tried to accuse them of thieving and tried to rob them himself, Mercedes and Annette spoke with each other as little as possible, each not wanting to argue with the other again.

By the looks of the door accidentally left half open next door to her dormitory, Annette must have already left to do her own thing for the day. Mercedes sighed wistfully; one of these days, she was going to have to talk with her and resolve their conflict, but it didn’t look like Annette was ready to do that yet.

Mercedes shut her friend’s dormitory door. Then she wondered: What did Ingrid have planned for the day? Maybe they could spend some time together today.

She made her way up the stairs to Ingrid’s dormitory, then knocked at her door. “Ingrid?”

She heard a soft groan from inside the dorm. A few seconds later, Ingrid opened the door, hair awry and still wearing her nightgown. “Yes, Mercedes?”

“Aren’t you going to get ready for the day?”

Ingrid huffed, still waking up. “Give me a minute,” she requested as she shut the door. A couple minutes later, she was dressed in her usual riding pants and mint-green tunic. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Almost comically, the long bangs of her hastily brushed blonde hair fell from the side of her head onto her nose. Upon closer inspection, a layer of dust from yesterday’s training after the war council still remained in her hair.

“You’re not going to wash up?” Mercedes asked. “You’ve got a little dirt on your…” Some dust fell from Ingrid’s hair onto her tunic. “Everywhere, actually.”

“You call it dirt, I call it a healthy coating of earth.” Ingrid joked. “Did you want something, Mercedes?”

“I was wondering if you would like to have a girl’s day out with me today.”

Ingrid sighed heavily. “Do I have to?”

“It’ll be fun! While you go draw a bath, I’ll go over to the old sauna and see if I can get it working again.”

Ingrid pondered for a moment, then nodded. “Very well. I’ll humor you today.”

Mercedes smiled brightly. “Thank you, Ingrid. I’ll see you at the sauna when you’re done!”

Mercedes turned to leave and go to the sauna. The building, though unattended for years, was in surprisingly good condition. The sauna clothes, having been securely stored in a cupboard, were still clean, though they smelled old. Mercedes set out two sets of the clothing to air out while she drew a bucket of water and found what was left of the box of coals. Mercedes placed some coals into the small furnace, then set them aflame by using a fire spell. Then she poured a small amount of water into the furnace, causing the room to steam. The condensation helped to make the coating of dirt in the room easier to wipe away.

Mercedes found some old rags and began cleaning the floor of the room. Halfway through, Ingrid made her way to the sauna, freshly bathed.

“The sauna, huh? Sounds like my kinda place.” Ingrid said sarcastically. When she noticed what Mercedes was doing, she grabbed her own rag and assisted her in cleaning the room.

“You don’t need to help me clean, Ingrid.” Mercedes protested.

“Nonsense. If you need to do some work to enjoy a girl’s day, then let me help.”

The two scrubbed until finally, they gave up, deciding to don the lightweight sauna clothing and lie down on the recently cleaned benches, then relaxing as Ingrid poured some water into the coals and more steam filled the room. The walls and ceiling would just have to wait for another day. When the two grew weary of the heat and moisture, Mercedes put a stone cap over the furnace to extinguish the coals, and Ingrid opened the windows to release the remaining steam and heat.

“Whew! That was more work than I anticipated.” Mercedes commented. “It’s a wonder Olga kept the place running so well back in the academy days.”

“Olga?”

“Oh, the maid who frequently tended to the sauna. Sometimes, at the end of the day, when she washed the clothes and cleaned the sauna, I would come in and help her out. Once I accidentally spilled a bucket of water all over her, but rather than feeling angry, she laughed, and enjoyed the feeling of the cold well water after spending all day in hot steam. She was a sweet lady. I wonder where she is now?”

The girls changed back into their regular clothes in their respective changing areas and exited the sauna.

“Well Ingrid, are you ready for some serious pampering?” Mercedes asked.

Ingrid shrugged. “Sure, Mercedes, whatever you say. As long as you don’t cut my hair.”

Mercedes led Ingrid to her dormitory, and pulled out her makeup kit and hairbrush. They brushed out each other’s hair, and Mercedes taught Ingrid some tips on how to apply makeup to her own face. Finally, they styled their hair. Mercedes weaved a small braid around Ingrid’s head, making it resemble a circlet. Ingrid tied Mercedes’s hair back like a pony’s thick tail from the top of her head, then managed to curl the ends of her hair by wrapping hairs around the handle of a brush and having Mercedes warm the handle with a spell. In the meanwhile, Mercedes and Ingrid bonded over stories about their brothers growing up, and the stories continued even on the walk into town.

“I guess that’s one thing your brother and mine have in common as kids.” Ingrid declared. “They seem to love mischief.”

Mercedes laughed at her own bittersweet memories and a new-found appreciation for Ingrid’s brothers, who she had never met. When they came across a river in their path, Mercedes watched as Ingrid peered into the still water and smiled at her reflection.

Ingrid turned her head, then reached to pat at the braid in her hair. “Well, that wasn’t so bad. I’m not usually into stuff like makeup and styling hair beyond keeping it out of my face, but I actually feel… girly.”

Mercedes giggled. “I’m glad. It’s about time we did something fun together.”

The two young women crossed the stone bridge going over the river. At the same time, a group of three girls crossed from the opposite side.

“Nice makeup.” One girl said to Ingrid.

“Thanks.” She answered as they passed by each other.

“For a clown!” The girl sneered, and her two friends laughed.

Ingrid stopped on the bridge and clenched her fists. Mercedes patted Ingrid’s shoulder. “Don’t listen to them. Let’s just keep walking.” She whispered to her friend.

“I think she looks cute.” Another one of the girls commented. “Like that time we put that old sweater on one of those stray dogs.”

The girls began cackling again. “Good one!” The third girl said.

Mercedes felt her own blood boil. “Let’s go, Ingrid.”

“No, no.” Ingrid shook her head as she turned to face the three girls. “That was a good one. Like one of those stray dogs.” She laughed, almost sinisterly. “You know what else is a good one?”

Suddenly, Ingrid grabbed her lance which was strapped to her back, and used it to knock the three girls over the bridge and into the river below. The girls squealed in sudden terror, but thankfully, the water was shallow. When Mercedes noted that the girls were not in any danger, she found herself laughing at the sight of the sopping wet girls standing chest-deep in the water.

“You’re right, Ingrid. That was funny!”

Before the girls could angrily reply, Mercedes used her magic ability to dam up the water upstream, then released it so the girls would quickly be washed ashore, far downstream. They yelped in fear, only to be silenced when they reached the shore on the side they were walking towards. When they climbed out of the river, they hastily clambered away from Mercedes and Ingrid.

When Mercedes concluded the girls wouldn’t be a problem anymore, she turned to Ingrid, who bitterly refastened her lance to her back. “They don’t know what they’re talking about.” She told her.

“It’s okay, Mercedes.” Ingrid sighed. “One of the good things about growing up without much money, is I don’t have to waste my time worrying about my appearance. I don’t care what I look like. I’m not looking for anyone’s approval. I know who I am, and who I want to be.” Ingrid instinctively reached behind her back, where she carried her lance. Suddenly, her gait slowed to a stop, and quiet tears welled in her eyes, threatening to spill.

It was no mystery to Mercedes that Ingrid had always dreamed of being a knight and that this dream conflicted with her family’s wishes to marry her off to bring financial stability to their house. Ingrid had fled from her family in order to make it to the Blue Lions class reunion a few months ago, all of the students hoping and praying for a miracle for the Kingdom at that point. They could agree their miracle came in the return of their beloved Professor Byleth, but there were mixed opinions on finding the rumored-to-be-decreased crown prince Dimitri, who had enslaved himself to the perceived desires of those he loved who died before him. As much as it pained Mercedes to see their former house leader this way, it must have hurt Ingrid even more to see her childhood friend so warped from his former self, and in the name of many, including Ingrid’s former betrothed.

Mercedes placed a hand on Ingrid’s shoulder. “That’s what I really admire about you, Ingrid. You’re so strong, and confident, and self-assured.” Ingrid sniffed, and she reached in her pocket for a handkerchief to dry her eyes. “I know it doesn’t matter, but… you’re very pretty.”

Ingrid looked over to Mercedes. “I am?” she whispered.

Mercedes smiled and nodded. “Yes. You are.”

A corner of Ingrid’s mouth picked up, and she gave a small smile. “Thank you, Mercedes. Shall we continue into town? I know of a quiet inn that cooks excellent meat where we can have dinner and tea.”

Mercedes smiled brightly. “Sure.”

The two continued to walk, making their way into the nearby town.


	2. The Tale of Rodrigue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said I was going to publish this in a few days, but considering today is Father's Day in the U.S., I thought this might be a good tribute. It may take a week for me to have the next one, the Tale of Ashe, ready.

Rodrigue used his rest day to go into town and pick up some personal supplies. He purchased a small tea set and a basket, and now he was purchasing tea leaves.

“If this is for a romantic picnic, may I suggest this lavender blend?” The eastern merchant gestured to a few packets of tea leaves with lavender.

Rodrigue chuckled softly. “No, it’s not a romantic picnic, but it is a special occasion. Do you have the four-spice tea blend?”

As Rodrigue purchased the tea leaves, he noticed a small flowerpot of chamomile flowers wilting in the shade of the merchant’s tent. He reached for the flowerpot and pulled it into the sunlight a couple feet away. “The chamomile flowers like full sunlight.” He told the merchant. The merchant nodded in gratitude for the advice.

Rodrigue walked through the rest of the marketplace, on his way to leave the town. Behind him, he heard a child cry. A little boy. “Shhh. It’s okay. Shhh.” A patient mother tended to the boy, but he would not be consoled. Rodrigue turned to see the boy mourning a broken toy. He then watched an older merchant from another tent pick up a worn, slightly off-key lute, and start playing the chords of a familiar Faerghus folk tune. The boy’s mother glanced up to the man slowly approaching them. The boy gradually ceased his crying as the old man knelt on one knee and began to sing.

> _"Leaves from the vine, Falling so slow_
> 
> _Like fragile, tiny shells Drifting in the foam._
> 
> _Little soldier boy, Come marching home._
> 
> _Brave soldier boy, Comes marching home."_

The little boy’s frown transitioned into a smile, and he surprised the man by reaching for his long, gray beard and tugging on it. The old man groaned while the little boy laughed. The man smiled good-naturedly and waved and the boy’s mother took his hand and led him away.

Rodrigue pondered on the interaction while he walked through town on the way back to the monastery. As he did so, he recognized the loud voice of one of the knights of Seiros, Alois, as he played in a small clearing among some houses with his young daughter. Rodrigue stopped to watch as the little girl went on to play a ball game with a few boys her age in the clearing. She and the boys kicked the ball back and forth with the goal of kicking the ball into the opposing team’s goal, marked off by a pair of sticks in the ground. Suddenly, one of the boys kicked the ball hard, and not in the direction he intended. The ball soared over the other players and crashed into a home, breaking its window.

“Hey!” A voice yelled from inside.

The group of kids gathered around Alois, whose eyes grew wide with worry. Rodrigue found himself joining the bunch.

“It is usually best to admit mistakes when they occur, and seek to restore honor.” Rodrigue said.

They felt heavy footsteps thunder to the broken window. A large man peered out, and he looked furious. “When I’m through with you kids, the window won’t be the only thing that’s broken!” He shouted.

Alois quickly glanced at Rodrigue. “But not this time.” Then to the kids, he commanded, “Run!”

The group scattered, and Rodrigue took off down an alley, stopping after he turned a corner and looking back to see if he was still being chased.

No sign of the large man.

Rodrigue slowly exhaled. It would still be best to provide the large man with reparations for the broken window, he decided. He pulled out his coin pouch and began counting out his estimate of the cost of a new window. He nearly finished counting the amount when he heard a voice and turned to it, spilling his coin back into his coin pouch. A young man pointed a dagger at him.

“You, give me all your money!” He demanded.

Rodrigue sized up the young man, and immediately noticed his poor footing.

“Eh, what are you doing?”

“I’m mugging you!” The young man hissed.

“With that stance?”

The young man briefly looked to his feet, then back to Rodrigue confused. “Wha–? What are you talking about? Just give me your money, old man!”

Rodrigue shook his head. “With a poor stance, you are unbalanced, and you can easily be knocked over.”

Rodrigue quickly grabbed the arm of the young man, then struck him with his other arm. The young man fell to the ground, and Rodrigue now held his dagger. Upon inspection, the dagger resembled a kitchen knife rather than a weapon. He looked back at the young man, who looked very discouraged. Rodrigue extended to him a hand, and the young man took it as Rodrigue helped him to his feet. He then returned the young man’s dagger.

“With a solid stance, you are a much more serious threat.” Rodrigue demonstrated a proper stance that prevented him from being knocked over easily. He gestured to the young man, and cautiously, the young man attempted to imitate him. Rodrigue gently kicked at his knees, guiding the young man into a more powerful stance.

“Much better.” Rodrigue patted the man’s back. “But to tell you the truth, you do not look like the criminal type.”

The young man looked conflicted. “I know. I’m…” he sighed deeply. “I’m just confused.”

Rodrigue led the young man to a well, and began to brew some tea.

The young man, Josephe was his name, was the oldest son of a merchant family falling upon hard times. His father was a carpenter who made and sold furniture, but since the war has had to resort to building construction and repairs in order to find enough work to take care of the family. Josephe has had to either assist him or enlist in the army (and chose the former), leaving him with no time, and no supplies, to pursue his other interests such as writing. Josephe enjoyed watching the sparks in his little sister’s eyes as he retold epic tales such as those of Loog or Kyphon at bedtime, and has admitted to taking careful note of current events so when the war is over, he could write and publish the story of either the rise or the fall of the Adrestian Empire. Rodrigue found himself in awe of Josephe’s tale.

“So you really think I could be a good author?” Josephe asked timidly.

“Of course!” Rodrigue sipped his tea.

Finally, Josephe smiled, albeit shyly. “This is so great. No one has ever believed in me.”

Rodrigue returned a brighter smile. “While it is always best to believe in oneself, a little help from others can be a great blessing.”

After their discussion, Rodrigue found out the boy could repair windows, and gave him the coin needed for the time and supplies to fix the large man’s window from earlier, plus a little extra so Josephe could purchase paper and other supplies. Josephe sincerely thanked him, and the two went about their day, both as happier men.

* * *

Twilight fell, and Rodrigue made his way to the small cemetery by the knights hall, across from the cathedral. The former professor, Byleth, recommended the area as a quiet place for isolated reflection. He had invited Felix to join him, but not to his surprise, he declined.

Rodrigue stopped at two graves, the resting places of Professor Byleth’s mother and father. He laid a yellow chrysanthemum at each of their graves. Finally, Rodrigue knelt at a corner of the cemetery. He reached into a recently purchased basket to pull out more chrysanthemums, an incense candle, a scroll, and a few other momentos. Then he unsheathed his sword, a gift that was returned to him nearly ten years ago, and laid it on the ground. He used a flint to light the candle, and finally unrolled the scroll. An old sketch of a young man was held open, propped against a stone wall by a few rocks. A name was written at the bottom of the sketch: Glenn Fraldarius.

“Happy birthday, my son.” Rodrigue whispered, tears streaming down his face. “If only I could have helped you.” His voice cracked as he sang an old lullaby.

Concealed behind the trees and gravestones of the cemetery, Felix Fraldarius watched as his father created a humble memorial, and listened as his father talked then sang for the first time in more than a decade. A single tear slid down his face.

> _"Leaves from the vine, Falling so slow_
> 
> _Like fragile, tiny shells Drifting in the foam._
> 
> _Little soldier boy, Come marching home._
> 
> _Brave soldier boy, Comes marching home."_


	3. The Tale of Ashe

The dining hall bustled with activity, more so than usual thanks to the addition of Duke Fraldarius’s reinforcements. With the reinforcements came more supplies; more weapons, more food, and more paper. Before meeting Lord Rodrigue at Ailell, Ashe had enough paper for one letter home to his brother and sister every month for six months. Now, he could write twice a month for at least a year, more when he could spare the time.

It was a better day for a scouting mission, and afterwards Ashe decided to go to the kitchens early to offer assistance to the assigned cooks for tonight’s meal. He smiled when peered into the kitchens and saw Dedue filleting fish. Dedue had been presumed to be dead until nearly a week ago when he joined the Kingdom Army taking the Great Bridge of Myrrdin. His return brightened the spirits of every Blue Lion, even Dimitri.

“Hello Dedue!”

Dedue glanced up briefly to Ashe and flashed a smile before resuming tending to the fish. “Dinner isn’t for another hour, Ashe. But it is good to see you too.”

“Um… would you like another helper?”

Dedue glanced at the dozens of fish yet to be deboned, then nodded. “Yes.”

Ashe took a knife and another cutting board and began filleting. “What are you making for dinner tonight?” he asked.

“The sweet and salty whitefish sauté.”

“That sounds delicious!”

The two caught up over the past five years’ events.

Dedue explained how the Duscur refugees rescued him from execution on Dimitri’s behalf. Although few people actually believed Cornelia’s lie that Dimitri killed his uncle Rufus, the people of Duscur were still discriminated against for having supposedly attacked the royal family before. Since the uprising five years ago when the Blue Lions aided and spared the Duscur rebels from slaughter from the Kingdom’s Army, many of the remaining people of Duscur became loyal to Prince Dimitri, and had broken into the capital to rescue Dimitri from execution, only to find Dedue and rescue him instead.

Dedue waited with the refugees until he received word of Dimitri’s return or death. He wasn’t able to make it to the reunion due to recovering from a raid in Fhirdiad. He was also unsure if anyone would even show up, but when he heard that remnants of a Kingdom Army separate from the Faerghus Dukedom had been spotted in Ailell, he followed after their trail and eventually found them at the Great Bridge of Myrddin.

Ashe had returned to House Gaspard to watch over his brother and sister after the Empire’s attack on Garreg Mach. He taught both of them some things he had learned on warfare and politics so they could defend themselves and their home, and perhaps someday aid in restoring House Gaspard. Due to being a part of the western area of Faerghus, they quickly fell under Empire rule. Ashe had done a few missions on behalf of House Rowe, the more powerful of western Faerghus’s Imperial supporters. With each one, he felt increasingly uncomfortable, and so when the day of the class reunion drew near, he eagerly used the opportunity to sneak out of the area. He met up with Gilbert surprisingly quickly, and then followed him to the monastery, where there was a lead on Dimitri’s whereabouts.

What remained of Faerghus loyal to the royal family who weren’t aiding in rebellions in the east joined the last year of Blue Lions alumni at the Garreg Mach monastery, having nowhere else to go to set up an effective camp to reclaim the Kingdom from the Empire. They were lucky Professor Byleth was found and allied with the Blue Lions; the Knights of Seiros had remained independent for the last few years to focus their efforts on finding Byleth and Lady Rhea.

While Ashe talked about his family, he noticed that Dedue set aside a small amount of herbs, different from the ones to be used in the recipe.

“What’s that in that small bowl?” he asked.

“A Duscur spice blend.” Dedue said. “It uses more of the less commonly used herbs.”

“What do you plan to do with it?”

Dedue paused for a moment. “Mercedes expressed interest in making sweets with Annette this week. Tonight’s meal, and the last few days of meals used nearly the week’s quota for sugar.”

“So you’ve made your meal differently so they could use the sugar for their sweets?”

“Precisely.”

Ashe pondered for a moment. “Have you considered reducing the amount of sugar in all the meals by a small amount?”

“I have, and I adjusted those meals accordingly. Serving a few Duscur meals instead of the sweet and salty sauté would leave just enough sugar for the sweets, but I don’t see many people being willing to give it a try.”

Ashe thought a little longer, then smiled at an idea. “Let’s do it.”

Dedue paused and raised an eyebrow. “What did you say?”

“You should prepare more of the Duscur meals. I would love to try the cooking, and maybe I can find a few others who would be willing to try it too.”

“How are you going to do that?”

Before Ashe could answer, they heard someone trip and fall just outside the kitchens.

“Ugh! There wasn’t even a barrel this time!” Annette muttered as she climbed back up to her feet. She then turned to the doorway and entered the kitchens. “Hi Dedue! Hi Ashe! I know my kitchen duty is tomorrow, but I was wondering if you wanted any help today. You know, since it’s probably been a while since you’ve cooked for so many people. Anyway, what are you making?”

“Fish .” Ashe said cheerfully. “Sweet and salty sauté is on the main menu, but Dedue is going to make a few… er, what do you call this Duscur cuisine?” He asked Dedue, gesturing to the small bowl of other herbs.

“It is similar to the two-fish sauté, but with only one type of fish and a few more herbs.”

Annette beamed. “Mmm, that sounds good! How can I help?”

* * *

The kitchens looked disastrous at first. Sauce and seasonings were spilled on every surface, and Ashe and Annette were frequently apologizing to each other and to Dedue and the other assigned cooks. What’s worse, it was nearly dinnertime, and only a small portion of the fish were cooked.

“This was so much easier in my head.” Ashe whispered to himself. Something needed to change in order to make this work. He reflected on his time as a kid watching his father cook at his restaurant. When his mother or an employee cooked alongside him, they had to assign specific tasks and limit themselves to particular areas of the kitchen so they don’t run into each other and risk accidents. There’s a reason the saying goes “too many cooks in the kitchen”, but there was a way to effectively house more cooks, reduce food preparation time, and still minimize risk of accidents.

“I have an idea.” Ashe announced, and the others paused to listen. “Annette, you can be the runner. Clean around the kitchens, and if Dedue or I ask for something, you can retrieve it. Dedue, continue mixing the spices. We can both sauté fish, but if while we’re serving food someone takes a plate of the Duscur meal, you can mix the herbs to make more of them. I’ll focus on sautéing the sweet and salty fish.”

Dedue was positioned at the stove closest to the herbs and spices, and everything was placed near him so he didn’t have to take steps to grab more. Ashe positioned himself at the other burner. Annette was the only one moving around the kitchen, and she found herself not only tripping less frequently, but able to get to where she needed to go faster. The other cooks found their own positions that reduced movement in the kitchen and yet still allowed them to quickly prepare the food.

Ashe knew that his idea greatly helped the cause when Dedue smiled as he cooked and Annette became comfortable enough with the reduced chaos to hum while she cleaned and retrieved oil and other ingredients.

* * *

Two hours later, hundreds of people were served, and in record time. Most of the knights chose to eat the sweet and salty fish, but a couple dozen people, more than Dedue anticipated, opted to try the Duscur cuisine instead, including former classmates. The few knights that did try however were impressed, and two dared sheepishly offer their compliments to the chef.

They had three Duscur meals available at all times, and each time one plate got taken away by a hungry knight, Dedue paused his sweet and salty fish cooking to cook up a fish in the Duscur style. Once everyone was served, Ashe, Dedue, and Annette took the three most recently Duscur style sautéd fish and helped themselves to dinner. The tables were still full, and Annette sat herself at one opening beside Mercedes. Ashe and Dedue found two openings at the far end of the dining hall and sat down. Ashe brought a bite of fish to his mouth, and instantly smiled.

Dedue watched Ashe as he took a bite of fish. “Well Ashe, how do you like it?”

“It’s amazing, Dedue! You should really think about cooking for a living.”

The two smiled wistfully. That dream seemed distant, with the war going on and Dimitri in his current state of mind, making reckless decisions in battle. It would require a miracle from the Goddess for everyone to make it out of the war alive. For now, they would have to stick with fighting to protect the people they cared about.

Ashe absentmindedly reached for the salt shaker at their section of the table, and caught himself as he realized almost too late that the top of the shaker wasn’t fastened on properly, nearly preventing the dumping of the remaining salt in the shaker onto his fish.

“Careful not to over-salt your food.” Dedue warned him coolly, but a smirk betrayed his tease.

Ashe chuckled softly. “Right. Thank you, Dedue.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As there isn't exactly a zoo in Garreg Mach (unless you count the cats running around everywhere), I took a few more creative liberties with this story.  
> Up next, the Tale of Sylvain!


	4. The Tale of Sylvain

Early evenings like this were often Sylvain’s favorite time of day. The air was just cool enough for it to be considered gentlemanly to offer a coat to a girl, and would often result in them being wrapped in his arms for the remainder of the night.

He didn’t go out carousing with women nearly as frequently as he used to back in his days at the academy, but he sure wasn’t above that behavior. Although there wasn’t a particular girl in mind to win over that evening, he didn’t need to have one in order to find a girl to kiss and hold before the night was through.

Usually he would stroll around the inns in town until he found someone. It wasn’t uncommon to stumble upon a girl who was tending to a chore or errand, then be able to swoop in to assist them, winning their affections in the meanwhile. Although this was the evening, when fewer girls would be working, many girls would still be out for some sort of evening activity that he could find his way to join in on. Sometimes he’d even impress them with a sleight-of-hand trick. Rarely did he find wooing difficult or unsuccessful.

One of the inns downtown, though lit up and filled with people like others, was much quieter than the others. Something about its unusualness drew Sylvain to it. “What’s this?” he whispered to himself. He lurked past a few people with horses and peered into an open window to see what was happening.

The place was serving at half capacity. Tables were arranged to leave one wall open. A group of at least a dozen women sat at a few tables, sipping water and eating from small fruit plates of albinean berries, peach currants, and noa fruits. One girl, cautiously holding a small piece of paper, walked up to the open wall, turned to face the other women, and recited a poem from the piece of paper, a poem she presumably wrote.

“Through all the long night, winter moon glows with bright love, sleet her silver tears.”

A poetry reading, he realized. Sylvain rested his arms on the windowsill, listening in. “Ahh, poetry,” he sighed to himself. He enjoyed literature and the arts because it was easy to find something to discuss about it, not to mention impress the ladies with his knowledge and insights.

The girl nodded, pleased with the quiet, positive response from her seated peers. She returned to her seat, and another girl walked up to the blank wall with her own poem. While Sylvain listened to the next girl’s poem, one of the horses near him began to become spooked. The horse neighed and clopped its hooves loudly, and the noise came towards Sylvain. Finding himself trapped between horses, he found that his only option to avoid fatal injury was to climb through the window. He did just so rapidly, fast enough to avoid injury, but not quite fast enough to avoid a horse’s tail whipping him on his backside.

Sylvain tucked and rolled, collapsing inelegantly on the floor of the inn. A few girls shrieked in surprise. Some looked startled, others appeared concerned, worried that their ladies-exclusive event would be forced to end too soon. A pair of older men, possibly fathers of some of the girls, entered the room, ready to escort him out before he could try anything funny. Sylvain quickly clambered back onto his feet, and combed his hand through his hair.

“I am so sorry!” He quickly said, the fastest way to buy a couple seconds of respect from the men and earn a few minutes with a girl. He continued to explain his situation. “Something struck me in the rear. I just… wound up… here.”

Sylvain slowed his speech when he realized he had accidentally apologized in poetry, and to his benefit. Most of the girls snickered at the happy accident. One woman, however, stared at him, a girl with sandy brown hair lighter than the hair of most of the other girls there. He slowly recognized her as one of many girls he wooed five years ago during his academy days. What was her name again?

This woman glowered at him. Clearly she remembered him, and hadn’t forgiven him for his scandalous behavior. “Five, seven, then five syllables mark a haiku.” She bowed her head very slightly. “Remarkable oaf.”

The room fell silent, unsure of how to react. Sylvain took a moment to think out his next haiku. Not nearly as elegant as traditional haikus, but enough to convey his intended message. “My name is Sylvain. That is, in my margravate, I am not an oaf.”

A couple girls giggled softly when he raised his fingers to count the last five syllables. The former flame, however, was not pleased. There wouldn’t be any appeasing her tonight, but he had a good shot with any of the other girls in the room.

“Tittering monkey,” she sneered. “In the spring he climbs treetops, and thinks himself tall.”

Some girls oohed silently. Sylvain resolved to stand his ground. He wasn’t going to let this girl win this haiku battle.

“You think you’re so smart, with your fancy little words. This is not so hard.”

The oohs grew louder, and even more so when the woman stood from her seat and faced Sylvain, arms folded across her chest, standing five feet away.

“Whole seasons are spent mastering the form and style. None call it easy.”

More oohs.

Sylvain raised an eyebrow and flashed an enticing smile as he stepped closer to the woman. “I call it easy. Like I fell Imperials, soon you will fall too.”

The room burst in a fit of giggles. One girl with dark brown eyes sighed dreamily. He turned his head slightly and winked at that girl.

Sylvain could see in the narrowed eyes of the woman that she was not happy that he was faring so well. She reached for a bowl of fruits on the nearest table, and held a small noa fruit to her lips. The skin of the noa fruit matched the bright red color of her lips, and suddenly desire flared inside of him. He was going to have to keep a cool head if he was to succeed tonight.

The woman didn’t eat the noa as he expected. “There’s nuts and there’s fruits.” She said. “In spring, the noa fruit drops, always to be squashed.”

To make her point, she drops the noa and crushes it underfoot. The room fell silent, and tension hung heavy in the air. Eyes returned to Sylvain, expecting him to break the tension.

“You can squash a fruit, but a seed can still grow up, restoring the fruit.”

Applause.

The woman before him shot him one more grimace before finally accepting that Sylvain could apply his deceptive wordsmithing ways to poetry just as effectively as he could in wooing. She nodded to him with angry eyes as she silently returned to her seat.

Well then. Sylvain won. Pleased with himself, he decided to sit down at an empty beside the girl he had winked at earlier. She giggled and scooted her seat closer to his.

“Hello there, Sylvain.” The girl said. “Good work up there earlier. I’m pleased to meet you.”

He smiled back. “Nice to meet you, too. Meeting you here feels like fate. Would you like to go out?”

The girl’s smile quickly transformed into a frown. Deathly silence filled the air. The entire room looked at him disappointedly, with exception to the former flame, who tried and failed to conceal a grin. Sylvain recited his last poem in his head, counting out the syllables. Four, five… oh. Six.

Oops.

A tall, large man stomped over to him, a bitter sneer on his face.

“One syllable much.” The man growled. “It’s time for you to leave, bub.”

Sylvain sighed, more disappointed in himself and the foolish error leading to his demise. “And so it is, sir.”

He was quickly escorted out of the inn before he could chance a smile and a wink at any girl behind him. Even the finishing of another haiku correctly wasn’t enough to redeem himself in the eyes of the ladies.

At least that Gloucester boy, Lorenz, didn’t see this. He didn’t need any additional mockery. And he still didn’t remember that woman’s name. Not that it mattered anyway.

Sylvain groaned as he stretched his back. “Ugh, poetry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What? Me, listen to Sexyback repeatedly as I wrote this story? No way...
> 
> Up next, The Tale of Felix.


	5. The Tale of Felix

Felix was known to spend more of his time on the training grounds than anywhere else in the monastery. Those who knew him only a little knew he was a diligent fighter, one unwilling to accept defeat, and this strength allowed him to push through many battles. Those who knew him best knew it was where he preferred to avoid others, specifically his father and the man he referred to as the boar.

Sylvain managed to be welcomed into his sparring circle one afternoon. Lance clashed against sword, leaving the two with no time to converse. Felix was doing this on purpose; recently Sylvain had been asking him questions he did not want to answer, one about a particular girl to whom Felix didn’t act nearly as sour as he did to everyone else.

Sylvain glanced up behind Felix and grinned in a way that Felix knew he was about to concoct something wretched.

“Ingrid! Annette! A pleasure to see you lovely ladies here today.”

Felix tried and failed to resist the urge to pause and look over, knowing that Sylvain had used a similar opportunity once to catch him off guard. No way he was going to let him embarrass him like that again. Thankfully, no such surprise happened.

Annette smiled. Ingrid rolled her eyes. “Thank you, Sylvain.” She answered.

“Were you two hoping to get in some magic training today?”

“Actually, I wanted to practice more with an axe.” Annette replied. “Now that Father and I got Crusher from my uncle, I figured I should better know how to fight with it. Would you two like to practice with me?”

A heavy arm rested on Felix’s shoulders. Sylvain paid his low growl no mind as he happily answered, “Felix would love to! As for me, well, I just remembered some business I need to tend to with Ingrid and Professor Byleth. We’d better go.”

“B–” Ingrid began to protest, but Sylvain gave her a look that Felix knew meant he would explain later, even if that explanation was simply, “I suspect something between Felix and Annette”. Not that there was, of course. He simply enjoyed her singing. There wasn’t anything else to it.

“Um, Felix?”

He suddenly became aware that he and Annette were now the only ones on the training grounds. Quickly he blinked, shaking his head and recovering from being temporarily stunned by Sylvain’s effort to leave him alone with Annette.

“Right. Axe training?” He raised his sword. “Let’s begin.”

“Isn’t sword fighting different from axe fighting?” she asked.

“Very. An axe wielder tends to have the advantage against a sword fighter, so let’s see how well you use that advantage.”

The two were still sparring more than an hour later. She had lasted longer than Felix anticipated, and towards the end of their session, she had managed to consistently disarm him in the last two matches.

“Good work.”

“Thanks.” Annette exhaled, breathing heavily as she wiped the sweat from her brow. She propped the practice axe against the weapons rack. “I’ll have to practice with Crusher to get used to its shape and weight, but this is a good start. Thank you for sparring with me.”

“You’re welcome.”

_Oh, this mountain of sweets, and treats that I long to eats... Oh, stacks of steaks and cakes and crumbs and yums!_

“Um, Annette?”

“Yes, Felix?”

“Would you… eat dinner with me tonight?”

“Oh. Well, sure. OK. I’d like to wash up beforehand, of course.”

“Yeah, yeah. Me too. I’ll meet you when you’re ready?”

“Great. I’ll meet you in front of the dining hall at sundown.”

Annette left. Felix noticed the sun beginning to set. It was casting a bright orange color in the training grounds.

“Sundown it is.”

* * *

Felix washed up and dressed as usual, absentmindedly taking a little extra time to tie his hair up neatly, and not paying any attention to the fact he took time to pick a nicer shirt and pants to wear. Finally, when he looked in a mirror content with his appearance, he left his room. As he walked a little faster than usual, he heard footsteps following behind him. His hand instinctively reached for the sword hanging on his hip.

“Easy, Felix!” Sylvain said as he now paced beside him.

Felix huffed. “You fool. Why are you following me?”

“Geez. No need to be so harsh. I was just on my way to dinner and was wondering if you wanted to eat with me. I presume that’s why you’re going.”

“Thanks, but no thanks.”

“Come on! You don’t even have to find girls with me when we’re done.”

Felix said nothing. Sylvain shook his head in mild disappointment and continued following him.

“Well, I’m not going to let you eat alone.” He declared.

“I won’t be alone.”

“Hold up.” Sylvain stopped, and grabbed Felix’s arm so he would stop as well. “This is just another chat with the professor, isn’t it?”

Felix refused to answer, but Sylvain figured it out anyway. His brows, once furrowed in confusion, gradually lifted, and his jaw dropped before it curled into a devious grin. “It’s a girl.”

“Shut up.” Felix pushed him aside and walked on, trying, and failing, to ignore Sylvain.

“Ah, yes!” Sylvain raised his fist in the air in celebration. “My best friend Felix, scored himself a date with a girl!” He laughed heartily, perhaps for the first time since their time at the academy. If it wasn’t for the fact that it was at his expense, Felix might have appreciated it more. “So, who is it? Never mind, I’m sure I’ll figure it out soon enough.” Sylvain reached for his arm again, this time, pulling him away from the dining hall.

“What are you doing?!” He growled.

“My friend, whether you like it or not, I’m going to school you in the art of seducing women.”

“I have no intentions of sweeping her off her feet only to drop her off a cliff, Sylvain!”

“Oh, so you’re playing the long game, huh? Maybe you’ll want to marry this girl someday?”

The question raised seemed so absurd that Felix was rendered speechless. Sylvain pulled him into his own dormitory and shut the door behind them. 

“You know what? Forget I said that. I’m going to assume that you’ll want to impress her enough to make her want to spend more time with you. In that case, just… do whatever you did that didn’t scare her away.”

Sylvain reached at the top of his head and pulled out the hair tie that kept his hair up. Felix grabbed at the hair tie angrily.

“Hey! It took me ten minutes to do my hair.”

“You have your hair like that every day, Felix. Change it up a little. Let it down.” Sylvain brushed his hands through Felix’s hair, letting it gently fall onto his shoulders. “There ya go! And now…”

“This better not take too long, Sylvain.”

“Not to worry! You already look pretty good as it is. Sit down over there.” He gestured to his made bed, and Felix seated himself reluctantly. “All you need now is some cologne…”

Sylvain grabbed a small sponge and dipped it into a small vial of cologne. He then gently patted some of the strong pine-smelling cologne at the front and sides of Felix’s neck and on the inside of his wrists.

“Why?”

“Why does cologne make you smell good?”

“No. Why put it on my neck and wrists? Those don’t stink up quickly.”

“Felix, my friend, you are right, and that fact there is exactly why you put cologne on your wrists and neck. You see, women do like a man’s natural musk, assuming he bathes regularly to remove sweat and grime. The cologne adds a little something extra, and precisely when you are preparing to make your move.”

Sylvain seated himself beside Felix. “Picture this. You two are sitting side by side, perhaps watching a sunrise. As it is still pretty early in the morning, she may still feel tired…” Sylvain feigns a yawn, and slowly he scoots closer and leans over, gently resting his head on Felix’s shoulder. “And so she might lean on you for support. But really, she wants to get closer to you. To touch you. She might say she’s sleepy, but if she’s anxiously waiting for a kiss, she will not be able to fall asleep.”

“What does this have to do with cologne?”

“If her head’s on your shoulder, where’s her nose, Felix?”

Felix thought for a long moment, then realized what Sylvain was doing. With his head on Felix’s shoulder, it placed his nose close to his neck, right where some cologne was just applied.

“I see.”

“Good.” Sylvain straightened up, taking his head off Felix’s shoulder.

“And what of the cologne on the wrists?”

“That’s the next step. While she rests her head on your shoulder for some time, you help her become more comfortable with you by touching her, little things like resting a hand on her back or waist. Then, when the time is right, you prompt her to lift her head off your shoulder. As she gazes deeply into your eyes, you hold her cheek… like so.”

Sylvain placed the palm of his hand on Felix’s cheek, his fingertips gently resting under Felix’s jaw. Felix recognized the faint smell of Sylvain’s cologne on his wrist.

“Now you don’t want to go in for the kill – I mean, kiss – right away. Take your time. Make your girl wait. Girls want the choice to retreat, even if they don’t want to choose it. And now I’m going to let you in on a Gautier trade secret on courting: the 90/10 rule. You go 90% of the way…” Sylvain leaned his head uncomfortably close to Felix’s. “…And hold. Until however long it takes for the girl to close the gap with her 10%.”

“And what do I do until then?”

“Show her the magic. Show her a smoldering intensity that makes her weak in the knees. Maybe tease a little.” Sylvain used the opportunity to stare deeply into his eyes and run his fingertips through Felix’s locks. “Make her want to close the gap. Make her want you.”

What the Saints was Felix doing? He quickly pulled himself away from Sylvain, jumping up from Sylvain’s bed to leave. “I’m leaving now. I don’t want to be late.”

Sylvain’s jaw dropped teasingly. “What, no practice run from you?”

Felix shook his head. “I doubt we’re close enough to have a kiss by the end of the night anyway. Even if I wanted to, and I don’t.”

Sylvain chuckled. “We’ll see about that.”

“If you do anything tonight, I will kill you.” Felix glanced at a mirror and brushed his hand through his hair. “How does the hair look?”

“Sleek. Like that of a fair maiden in one of those knights sto– OW!”

* * *

“Mercie, what am I doing?”

Annette sighed as she collapsed onto her bed for the third time, into a pile of her dresses and clothes.

“You are overthinking what to wear to dinner?”

Annette groaned into her pillow. She wasn’t wrong, but she was so very right that it pained her.

“You’re right. I’ll just wear what I usually wear.” She reached for her cream colored dress. “Maybe I’ll wear a blue shawl around it rather than the orange?”

“Whatever you wear, Annette, I think he’ll like it. He does want your company after all.”

Mercedes got up from her chair, preparing to leave Annette’s room. “I better go. I was planning on making some sweets with Dedue and Ashe after dinner.”

Annette grinned. “Oh, I love it when you make the sweets! What’s the dessert?”

“Shortcake.”

Annette froze.

“Is something wrong with shortcake?” Mercedes asked.

“Oh, no.” Annette said, her voice getting more higher-pitched than usual. “I love shortcake.”

“Great! And dinner will be fine, Annette. Take care!”

Mercedes shut the door behind her, leaving Annette alone with her thoughts once more. Suddenly, she realized that the sun was already dipping below the horizon. She quickly dressed and raced to the dining hall as she threw the blue shawl over her shoulders.

* * *

Felix had only waited a couple minutes just outside of the dining hall before he decided to tie his hair back up again. He cursed that it wasn’t as immaculate as it was before Sylvain pulled the tie out of his hair, but it would have to do. The sun was already down, and Annette would show up at any time. Right?

He peered into the dining hall. Annette hadn’t gone in yet.

He turned back out toward the fishing pond, and his eyes swept along the vegetation and rubble around there and the greenhouse.

Perhaps Annette went to the other entrance to the dining hall? But this one was closer to her dormitory…

“Sorry I’m late!”

He turned to face Annette, who had been quickly walking over. She someone managed to miss acknowledging the barrel up against the wall, and yelped as she tripped around it. Felix was fortunate – or unfortunate? – enough to be right there and managed to catch Annette in his arms before she could collapse the rest of the way onto the ground.

“Stupid barrel.” She muttered. Then when she realized just where she was, she pushed herself off from his chest and stood back up, her face reddening. “Um… thanks.”

Felix could only bring himself to nod. The rest of his facilities he spent on avoiding turning red himself.

“So… dinner?” Annette asked.

Felix nodded again, and he walked beside her into the dining hall. It wasn’t long before they received their plates of grilled venison and noa fruits. Felix smirked. “Steak.” He muttered.

Annette gave him a wary side eye that lasted until they were seated. It was difficult to resist grinning even more widely when he saw her glare. Nevertheless, they ate, in silence at first, until Annette hesitantly asked a question.

“So, what do you think of the flowers in the greenhouse?” A few classmates, Mercedes and Ashe especially, put extra care into the Duscur flowers near the back of the greenhouse, much to Dedue’s quiet approval and gratitude.

“They’re okay.”

Annette pondered on another question. “What do you like to do for fun?”

“Nothing.”

“No hidden talents like juggling?”

Felix shook his head.

What was with his inability to converse like a normal person? Should he have gotten more tips from Sylvain?

Too soon their plates were already cleared. Felix offered to take Annette’s plate away, and she accepted.

“I heard there was dessert tonight,” she commented shyly. “Would you like to have some?”

“I don’t like sweets, but I can bring you something.”

Annette relaxed very slightly. “Thank you.” She said.

Felix took their plates and cleared them by the wash basins. He tried and failed to avoid his father Rodrigue, who had gotten one plate of dessert.

“Would you and your girlfriend care for dessert?” Rodrigue inquired.

Felix gritted his teeth. “She is not my girlfriend.” He muttered.

Rodrigue raised an eyebrow and smirked before casually strolling to an empty seat beside the knight Gilbert. Felix painfully realized that he wasn’t going to hear the end of this from his father. He turned to the dessert table. There were shortcakes. Perhaps this will get more of a reaction from Annette. He grabbed two plates.

The next table across from Annette, Sylvain looked up from his plate of food. He glanced over to Annette then back to Felix, grinning wickedly. Felix could only stare angrily back as he carefully walked the shortcakes to Annette, making sure to remove his grimace before she could see him.

“Cake.” He said as he gently placed a plate in front of Annette before seating himself.

Her eyes narrowed. “I thought you said you didn’t like sweets.”

“I don’t. But I hear this cake is yummy yum.” Felix casually ate a bite.

Annette blushed red, then she rested her head in her hands. “It’s been five years…” she groaned. “I know you’re intentionally refusing to forget! Why won’t you forget about it?”

Felix once told Annette jokingly that the song was permanently etched into his memory, but with time, that statement became more and more true. Occasionally he’d wake from dreams, and her songs would be stuck in his head. He wasn’t ready to tell her this yet.

“You have a nice singing voice.” He finally said.

“Oh.” Her red flush faded into a rosy pink. “Thank you.”

Annette ate her cake, more content and less cautiously than before. Felix found himself breathing easier as well, and more so when Annette having finished her cake still sat with him as he finished his. Having intentionally sent many people off before, not causing a girl to run away offended was a win in his book.

“Hey, would you like me to show you one of my favorite places in the town nearby?”

“Sure.”

Annette blinked in pleasant surprise at the immediate affirmative reply, then smiled.

* * *

Enough light was available for Annette to comfortably guide Felix through the town in the dark night. She listened to the sound of her and Felix’s footsteps along the cobblestone path and the crickets chirping in the woods as she walked along.

“I’m so excited for you to see the Lifelight Fountain. It’s in this isolated part of town, and some nights the lanterns are lit and the water sparkles like…”

Annette held Felix’s hand as she guided him and turned a corner, then stopped. The fountain was dark, the only light around being that of the moon, stars, and some windows lit by candles. She frowned.

“They aren’t lit tonight.” She sighed in disappointment. “I’m sorry.”

Felix looked at the fountain and the dim lamp post lights, the candles at the fountain’s edge, and the lanterns floating on the water. He pondered for a moment before turning back to Annette.

“Close your eyes, and don’t peek.”

Annette nodded and closed her eyes. It seemed like a minute before she began quietly humming one of her older silly songs, the swamp beastie song in particular. She continued for a little longer before she sensed Felix standing beside her.

“Are you finished?” she asked.

“For about a minute now.” He admitted. Annette squirmed inside. “Now you can look.”

She blinked her eyes open, and softly gasped. Every candle, every lantern, was lit, and its reflection glistened in the water. It looked as if the stars had fallen to meet them on the ground.

“Oh, wow.” She breathed. She stared for a few more seconds before turning to Felix, who wore an unusually warm smile. “What happened? How did they light? What did you do?”

He held one last candle up, uttered a small chant, then a flicker of fire danced from his fingertip onto the wick of the candle, setting it aflame. “I learned a small amount of magic upon recommendation from Professor Byleth five years ago.”

Annette beamed. “So you do have hidden talents.”

Felix gave a small chuckle. “I suppose.”

He gently placed the candle on the fountain, then returned to Annette. The two seated themselves on a wooden bench, perhaps an inch of space separating them. Even still, her arm still tingled as if she were holding his hand. Somehow, she wanted to? She devised an idea that would allow her some leeway in case she had to embarrassedly explain herself if she accidentally touched him.

“I have something for you too. Now it’s time for you to close your eyes.”

Felix did so, and gradually, Annette softly sang into his ear the melody she had hummed earlier as Felix lit the lanterns.

“ _Somebody once told me of beasties living in the swamp. They eat the pigs and the goats and the cows…_ ”

His smile continued to grow as she continued to sing. As Annette leaned closer to him, she found herself taken in by his pleasant scent. And was that a hint of pine she sniffed?

When she finished the song, she went on to sing another, this time humming again when she felt her cheek rest against his shoulder. She froze for a moment, only to be encouraged to continue when Felix rested his hand behind her back on her shoulder.

* * *

“WHAT?!” Sylvain’s jaw dropped. “What do you mean you didn’t kiss her?”

“Just that.” Felix said coolly.

“But why? What’s wrong?”

“It’s complicated.”

Felix shut his room door behind him, leaving Sylvain without answers. Unlikely, but perhaps he would be ready to answer other questions tomorrow.

He and Annette didn’t have a bad ending to their date; actually, it was rather pleasant having her head rest on his shoulder and her arm on his as she hummed. Gradually his hand fell from her shoulder and slid down her back, finally resting on her waist. Finally, they both agreed that they should turn in for the night before anyone got worried about them. They walked together to the dormitories and they parted ways at the bottom of the stairs to the upstairs dormitories. He considered holding her cheek for a moment, then changed his mind before he could embarrass himself.

Felix didn’t want to explain that he didn’t want to get attached too soon. The Kingdom Army had ill odds of success reaching Enbarr, even with Professor Byleth and the Knights of Seiros on their side. He fully intended to protect those he still cared about as much as he could in battle, but he still fully disagreed with the common saying “it is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all”. Just look at where that brought Dimitri.

* * *

Mercedes was already in her room with the light out. Annette would just have to wait until morning to talk with her about… whatever it was that happened between her and Felix.

She jumped at her father’s voice. She had forgotten that he sometimes stood watch over the dormitories in the evenings. Usually, he would be in the monastery, either praying or watching over His Highness Dimitri.

“How was your night, Annette?” The man who now referred to himself as Gilbert asked.

Annette withheld a groan. Did he see them leave the dining hall together? She didn’t want to tell him all about the muddled emotions she was feeling, not just yet, anyway.

“It was nice.” She finally answered. She then shut herself into her room.

And for the first time in a long time, Gustave smiled contentedly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long! It ended up longer than the other ones, but hopefully you have as much fun reading it as I had writing it.  
> Last will be the Tale of Byleth.


	6. The Tale of Byleth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for this last chapter taking so long. The Tale of Byleth ended up being a lot more serious than the other stories, so I made it its own.

<https://archiveofourown.org/works/25911934>


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